


cheating death is not a good idea

by triinlantern



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Character Death, Character Undeath, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Major Character Injury, Simon and Baz hate each other in the first part, ding ding ding it’s both, if that’s even possible haha, then guess who apologizes for being a bitch to the other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28820172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triinlantern/pseuds/triinlantern
Summary: Simon gets another chance at life... but with one condition.OrA demon au, where demons walk the earth to have a second chance at life
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> JUST PUTTING THIS HERE!!! This fic has already been pre-written by me, and I shall post a new chapter every week or so.

He's got this in the bag. He turned around, sword poised-

The unicorn horn pierced through his heart. Simon fell to the dirt, dead. 

He was sent by the Mage to round up a herd of feral unicorns, but the last one had picked a fight with him. Unfortunately, the animal had won, and Simon was laying on the ground, bleeding out. 

He didn't want to go like this. Death by unicorn attack? How pathetic. He tried to focus. The world is…dark and red. What? Dark and red…Simon opened his eyes.   
  
He was in a room now, only lit by candles. He touched his chest. The pain was gone. 

"Simon… Snow?" a voice called from the other side of the room.  _ Shit…  _ The young man sat up and looked groggily in the direction of the noise. 

It came from a willowy red-haired woman with a silky robe as black as ink, glancing at a yellowed scroll. She was sitting on a twisted black wicker throne, larger than any chair he’d ever seen. 

"Simon Snow," she repeated, snappier this time, flicking her eyes to Simon. 

"Yes?" he stammered, standing up now. 

The lady's eyes softened, almost in pity for him. "I'm sorry," she started, with a softer tone this time, rolling up the scroll (she clapped her hands together and it disappeared with a puff of smoke), "That came off too strong. I'm Justice, and I decide whether people like you go to heaven or hell." 

Simon paled. "I'm…dead?" he gasped, hands flying to his face. He couldn't feel anything. He pinched his skin. Nothing. 

Then, with shaky fingers, he roamed down to his chest where the unicorn had stabbed him. Sure enough, it was still there, but it didn’t hurt, just bloody and gaping and… _ there. _ His knees buckled and he started to sway- 

Justice rushed up to the man and caught him, just before he tipped over. "Not exactly," she consoled, attempting to steady a shaking Simon. "This is the In Between. Where you're, well, in between living and dying." She stepped back to her throne. 

Simon rushed up to her. "In between? Can I go back?" he asked desperately. 

Justice gave him a concerned look. "Well, yes, but there's a few conditions-" 

Simon cut her off. "No, you don't understand, I need to get back home," he shot back hysterically, flicking a finger at her, "I need to get back home. You don't-" 

“Why?” the woman asked, crossing her arms. Simon paused. What did he have to live for? It was true that he didn't want to disappoint the Mage, but that didn't seem like a good alibi. He thought hard, and eventually he found an excuse, saying reluctantly, “Because…I’ve just fallen in love?” 

He was obviously lying, and Justice looked like she knew as well. She studied his face carefully for a while but eventually she put her hands up in defeat. 

“Fine, but don’t think I didn’t warn you,” she said. She snapped her fingers, revealing a contract and a sleek black pen (in another puff of smoke) and Simon signed it with the hunger of a starved man. 

Nothing happened. But then something did. He started glowing bright white, starting at the fingertips, then extending down to the rest of his body. 

"What's happening?" he glanced at Justice with worried eyes. 

“You’re going back home,” she said, with the sweetest of voices.

The young man heaved a relieved breath, glow spreading to his face now. 

And then there was light.

And then there wasn’t. 


	2. Chapter 2

Simon woke up again in a cold sweat. He was still laying down on the ground, but the pockmarks on his chest were gone. Simon looked around frantically, still wondering what the hell had just happened. He saw that there was blood on the ground and all over him, but none of it was his. It looked like spilt oil; unicorns’ blood. He looked ahead and there lay the feral animal, cold and still and not too far from him - whatever killed it must have come and gone. 

Simon got up and trudged back home.

He really didn’t want to see the Mage right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. But there he was, much to Simon’s annoyance, on the other side of the drawbridge, wearing those godforsaken stupid green tights again.  


“You’re late, son,” he groused, arms crossed and eyebrows knitted. Simon looked up. The moon was high, and he was sent right after classes were out. How long was he- 

“Did you round up the unicorns?” The Mage asked, voice firm and demanding. 

Simon winced. “Well, yes, but-“

The older man raised his voice. “But what? I give you one job, and you fuck it up.” 

Simon sulked, exhausted. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Mage silenced him with a raised hand.

“God, Simon, you’ve got blood all over you.” He motioned his thumb to the Mummers house, and Simon obeyed without protest, head lowered in embarrassment.

“Never ask a boy to do a man’s job,” The Mage sighed in disappointment as the drawbridge closed. 

It took a while to scrub the dried blood off, but Simon didn’t care at all because he needed a shower. His mind was muddied up with racing thoughts that just didn’t make sense.  _ Justice… Justice… who am I talking about? I’m going insane. _

The analog clocks read 2:14, too late for anyone to be up. Simon, with his fresh uniform (somebody had replaced his bloody and tattered set with a clean one), opened his room’s door, hoping his roommate wouldn’t go batshit. He climbed into his creaky old bed, not bothering to lay the blanket over himself.

“Finally, you’re back,” Baz hissed, probably smirking as well. Simon’s blood boiled. Why did he sign that contract? What did he even have to live for anyways? He rolled over, away from Baz’s general direction. 

His tired eyes closed eventually after staring at the walls for what had seemed like hours.


End file.
